


His Lady Disdain

by crimtastic



Category: Knives Out (2019), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Crack Crossover, Cunnilingus, F/M, Happy Avengers Tower Era, Hate Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Scheming, Smut, Snark, Surprisingly Spoiler Free for Knives Out, Swearing, Sweatershock, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:33:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22281145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimtastic/pseuds/crimtastic
Summary: Darcy had left her ostentatious hometown the moment she could, hoping to never come back. But when her sister called, she couldn’t refuse. Unfortunately, it put her right in the sights of one of her old rivals, the unfairly handsome Ransom Drysdale.And he was just as much as a douche as Darcy remembered.
Relationships: Ransom Drysdale/Darcy Lewis
Comments: 45
Kudos: 199
Collections: Ladies of Marvel Bingo 2019





	His Lady Disdain

**Author's Note:**

> So this was _supposed_ to be PWP, but y'know, me. Enjoy. 😅
> 
> Shout out to [Em_Jaye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Em_Jaye/pseuds/Em_Jaye) for giving it a quick once over! I adore her. 
> 
> A playlist for the fic is [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0f87VzwHEMK3v3DrUeSd4D).
> 
> Bingo fills: Ladies of Marvel 2019 - L3 - "I think this sweater is too big."

Darcy fiddled with the waist of her skirt, making sure it faced the right direction after her long car ride. Peering down into her car’s side view mirror, she refreshed her lipstick with a pop of her lips and took a big breath. Straightening, she squinted through the morning sunlight at the building in front of her. She felt a mask she’d worn all throughout her teen years slip on over her face - polite disinterest as best, boredom at worst - and made her way to the entrance.

The ‘late brunch’ had been at the request of Margot. Darcy would usually defer, at least change the venue to somewhere more equitable, but the text her dad had sent her had brooked no opposition, threat carefully woven through the words. So here she found herself in front of Whispering Fir Country Club, mentally gearing herself up for any possible run in with vipers from her old life.

Walking into the building, Darcy just hoped the brunch proceeded without incident. 

Giving her name to the hostess of the restaurant, she was promptly escorted through to her sister’s table. Margot didn’t bother to hide her squeal of delight, throwing her arms around Darcy as she sat. Neighboring tables sent them a dark look.

“Darcy! God, I’ve missed you so much!” 

Margot’s exuberant greeting made Darcy laugh. “Please, you haven’t asked me out for a brunch in ages. You are in the city all the time, I could definitely carve out a lunch for you during the week if you’d ask.”

Margot wrinkled her nose. “Mom said you’d be too busy-”

“Yes, Honoré is the authority on my daily life, thank you for reminding me,” Darcy said as she rolled her eyes at her menu, trying to curb her true feelings about her step-mother. Margot shrugged.

“She usually keeps me too busy with her errands to ‘carve out’ anything, anyway. But I didn’t invite you to brunch to talk about mom,” Margot leveled Darcy with a worried look. “Not really, anyway.”

“So why then?” Darcy asked. “Dad doesn’t usually bother to ‘check that my girls are talking’.”

Before Margot could answer, the waiter appeared. After they both ordered pancakes, Darcy asked, “Could I get a sea breeze as well?” The oppressive atmosphere of the huffy patrons was getting to her. The alcoholic drink would make everything much more tolerable.

“Of course,” replied the waiter as he bowed and left.

The waiter thus dismissed, Margot leaned in close to Darcy, a grimace on her face. “Soooooo, I, uh, had a bit of an oopsie the other day.”

Darcy felt her eyebrows shoot up, alarmed. “What kind of ‘oopsie’?” It would figure she’d get a call when something went _wrong_.

Margot sighed, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder before pulling out her phone. A few button hits later and she placed a gallery of images at Darcy’s disposal.

“Margot-” Darcy’s jaw dropped. The photos were all of Margot’s car, a beautiful blue Audi, wedged into a storefront in the dead of night. Various blue and red lights reflected off of the amount of broken glass, debris everywhere, and Darcy gasped, “Wait, this is Silverstein’s?” 

“Yeah. They went on and _on_ about how I was a part of some jewelry heist or something-”

“Margot!” Darcy’s swiping to more and more photos of different angles gave her no calm.

“What? Like I could plan a jewelry heist?” Margot snorted. “I was questioned for hours and the police even agreed that I had nothing to do with it-”

“How did it even happen?”

Margot gave a nonchalant shrug. “Chad took the car.”

“Chad? Chadwick Huntington the Third Chad?”

“Do you know any other Chad’s?” Margot sarcastically asked, before wrinkling her nose. “I suppose there is Winthrope’s grandson, but he’s only twelve or so-”

“He took the car-” Darcy interrupted, trying to keep on task. “-for...?”

“Well, he was chasing after Jacob Thrombey-”

“Isn’t that kid like fifteen?”

Margot gave out a beleaguered sigh. “Seventeen. Would you stop interrupting me?”

Darcy shoved the phone back at Margot. “Fine.”

“Well, we were at Canterbury’s and Thrombey was there with his other Nazi shit friends and started going on about how Chad’s a ‘half-breed’ because of his mom’s ancestry-” Darcy felt a disgusted look cross over her face. “-which Chad was pretty good about ignoring it until they started in on me-”

Darcy held up a hand. She’d heard it all before. “I can imagine. So Chad confronted them?”

Margot shook her head. “Thrombey stopped us as we were leaving. But then it kind of escalated from there-”

“Escalated how?”

Her sister shrugged. “A ‘challenge’ was issued, so Chad called some friends before heading to the meet up. Their fight was pretty even, but Thrombey fled almost immediately - his nose was gushing blood, it was fabulous - and Chad grabbed my keys and went after him. He caught up with him on Ashland drive before Jacob threw out something out his window and the tire blew and Chad went right into Silverstein’s-”

“Shit, is Chad okay?” Darcy frowned. “You weren’t in the car?”

Margot shook her head. “I was following with his friend.” Dropping her voice as the waiter returned to deliver their drinks, she muttered, “Chad broke a leg, but considering how fast he was going, it was lucky it wasn’t his neck.”

Darcy pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m sure the Huntington’s are pleased about that.”

“Well, bye bye to his rowing season, but it’s not like he’s _dead_.”

“So what does this have to do with me?” Darcy asked. Margot looked uneasy.

“Well, before Thrombey’s group showed up to the fight, the guys were kind of riling each other up, y’know? And... might’ve been drinking some scotch that Chad swiped from his dad’s liquor cabinet-”

“Oh my god,” Darcy muttered, reaching for her drink. “Were you arrested?”

Margot sighed and nodded. “Mom had to pick me up in Francie’s car. Keep a low profile, y’know. Dad shut himself up in his study and hasn’t spoken to me since.”

“Did you expect anything else? After his entire _career_ was built on ‘cracking down on underage drinking!’ and making DUI sentences harsher?” Darcy asked in a tight whisper.

So that was why dad was so insistent she came. Questions pinged through Darcy's mind as she considered the possible scenarios. Margot could get off lightly or someone could make an example out of Judge Lewis’ daughter. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“I don’t know. Mom seems to think you can do something at work to make any sort of press go away.” Margot looked disinterested, inspecting her nails. “You have fancy computers that can hack that kind of stuff away, right?”

The sheer assured trust that Darcy would and could fix this instantly prompted her to take a sip of her drink before immediately spitting it back into the glass. The pineapple flavor was strong and instantly caused her tongue to start burning, causing Darcy to grab some water to gargle.

“Damn, Darcy, you could just say _no_ ,” Margot grumbled, looking around as their neighboring tables tutted in disgust.

Darcy shook her head, spitting the water back into the glass. “There’s pineapple in this, I gotta get a new one.” She quickly stood up, grasping at the escape route without thinking too far ahead, unsure of how to respond to Margot’s request.

“Right, your allergy,” Margot replied, pointing. “Bar’s that way.”

“Thanks,” Darcy muttered, grabbing the drink and heading through the wide doorway. Walking straight up to the counter, the single bartender was in the fray of multiple orders. Darcy took a stool, prepared to wait as she pondered the problem.

If it got out, Dad’s career was ruined, point blank. Darcy was pretty young when he ran his campaign, schmoozing politicians and building a name for himself on how he’d keep his judgments harsh to deter teenage drinking and DUIs. In such a rich town, having a judge that didn’t defer to the largest buck - coming from money himself - made Abraham Lewis a very lucrative choice.

But in all reality, Darcy wasn’t sure she could even do anything about any bad publicity for the family. She worked in public relations, sure, but as a liaison between Asgardian and Earth interactions. Learning customs, building strategies on how to acclimate the Asgardians to the rather bewildering aspects of human life. She’d twisted a couple of articles with a jovial knife to make the unflattering reports become suddenly quaint, but nothing like covering up such an offense.

“Well, well, Fetch is back.”

Darcy bristled, the old nickname grating down her spine. The man leaned onto the counter, peering into her face. “Now, why would she be here?”

She expected to hear jeers from idiotic cohorts that he’d usually surround himself with, but when she glanced balefully at the man, Ransom Drysdale was alone, looking entirely too pleased. He’d obviously just arrived with his tan trench coat and scarf wrapped around his neck, nose red from the cold. She turned away, trying to ignore how charming it made him look and waved her hand, trying to get the bartender's attention once again. 

“Let me guess. Mommy needs a pick me up for Atlantic city, so you’re here to ply daddy’s wallet?” Ransom asked, eyebrows high. Darcy ignored him. “No? How about... oh, is it time to bring home some loser for him to approve?”

Darcy sniffed. “Weak, even for you, Drysdale.”

Ransom sent her a grin. “But, see, I knew I could get a response from you. You thrive on feeling superior to me. Admit it, Fetch.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why? It’s true. You helped clean up quite a few of my messes, if I remember correctly. Like the good labrador you are.”

She turned to him with a large smile. “Fuck off, _Huey_.”

Darcy was momentarily pleased to see a flash of irritation over Ransom’s face, but it was short lived as he moved closer, arm resting on the back of her stool. The heat of his breath hit her neck as he crooned into her ear, “Nice try. What would make you come all the way out to Whispering Fir?”

“I’m meeting my sister,” she begrudgingly replied, hoping acquiescing would make him go away.

“Your sister? Margot, isn’t it? Thought I saw her arrive. She’s quite… something. Must be the French influence.” There was a lecherous gleam in his eyes. “She’s eighteen now, right?”

“Nineteen.” Darcy shot him a scowl. “And knows to steer clear of you.”

“You wound me, Darcy,” Ransom murmured with a soft look, causing a shiver to travel down her spine. That tone of voice had always unsettled her, a mixture of bubbling excitement and cautious dread swirling in her stomach. She turned back to the bar, trying to flag the bartender down once again. The sooner she left, the better.

“Tell me, what have you been up to these many years?” he asked.

Thoughts of Asgardians and dark elves flashed through her mind and she shrugged. While her work might have started with explosions and near death experiences, it had fallen into a pattern of suits and meetings and following every manner of media. Quite dull in comparison. “Nothing important.” 

“That’s not what I hear.”

“Oh, please, dazzle me with your intelligence,” Darcy said sarcastically. The bartender appeared to drop off Ransom’s drink, something clear looking. “Hey, hello?” she waved her hand to keep the man’s attention, pointing at her glass. “I said sea breeze, not bay breeze. No pineapple.”

The bartender apologized, “I’ll make you a new one in a minute.” Then walked away with it.

“Great,” Darcy muttered under her breath. Ransom chuckled, obviously amused at how quickly the bartender had dismissed her.

“As I was saying, I heard you got a job with the Avengers. Very prestigious. Your dad must be so proud.”

“Bursting.”

“I was surprised you managed to get hired, really. But then I realized what a great retriever you made for all of us at school. How do you like cleaning up superhero messes now, Fetch?” he asked.

“Better than being an idle wash out. Tell me, when was the last day you did honest work?” Darcy’s patience was running thin. The entire country club was uncomfortable, between the rude staff to the thin-skinned patrons to Margot’s difficult request.

Of course Ransom would show up on top of everything else. It definitely wasn’t the first time he went out of his way to fuck with her. Darcy wished she knew what made her so special.

“I think it was a couple months ago, I did some research for grandfather,” his expression was amused once again. Darcy had a pithy retort on her tongue when he reached up and brushed her hair back, thumb lighting rubbing the base of her neck. His hand warmed her bare skin that spread through her body. Darcy tried to ignore the butterflies that burst in her stomach, ones he’d always conjure while simultaneously showing what an asshole he was. 

“I’ll say that it’s really fortunate I saw you here today,” he murmured.

“Why?” Darcy asked.

“Can’t I be glad to see an old friend?” Ransom said softly. She narrowed her eyes, searching his expression for anything dishonest but finding nothing. He tilted his head down, lips twisted into a lazy smile and Darcy felt that same fluttering again. The moment hung.

Darcy suddenly realized who she was dealing with and all at once her senses returned. A strategic retreat was in order. Plucking Ransom’s drink from the bar, she slid off the stool.

“You’re so full of shit, Ransom,” Darcy said before taking a long sip of his drink. The strength of the vodka almost made her grimace, but she stared up at Ransom in defiance through the bitter taste. His eyebrows hitched up, eyes drawn to her mouth. Pushing the half emptied glass into his hand, she couldn’t avoid brushing up against him before she walked away.

Keeping her disinterested composure was absolutely critical as Darcy walked back to Margot’s table. Packing away all the fluttery, confusing feelings about Ransom Drysdale was done on the way. She could analyze them later.

Margot was chewing on her pancakes that had arrived when Darcy returned.

“What happened to your drink?” she asked in confusion.

“Doesn’t matter.” Darcy looked at the stack of pancakes at her place, dripping with whipped cream, strawberries and syrup, and felt a bit queasy with the blanket of vodka in her stomach.

“So, what do you think?” Margot asked, unperturbed.

Darcy shrugged, picking up her fork and trying to muster up an appetite. “I don’t know what I’ll be able to do, but I’ll try.”

Margot smiled, knowing she’d won. “Thanks sis.”

Darcy focused on actually eating, knowing she should enjoy the food while she could, listening to Margot talk. Her sister was going on about a particular design Honoré had her working on when she tilted her head to look at something behind Darcy.

“Hey, Darce?”

“Yeah, Margot?”

“Why is Ransom Drysdale staring at you?”

It took a monumental effort to not immediately twist around and glare at the man. 

“No idea. Ignore him,” Darcy muttered. Margot shook her head and leaned in.

“He wants something, look.”

Darcy peeked over her shoulder to see him lounging back in a chair in the foyer, the lipstick smudged drink in his hand, watching her with a cheshire cat expression. A man with a notepad was seated to his right and followed his line of sight to see Darcy. Ransom slowly raised the glass, motioning as if saying _cheers_ to Darcy, before taking a drink.

The man sitting next to him took note of this interaction and Darcy felt a sinking feeling that she’d somehow played right into Ransom’s plan. Damn him. Because the man with the notepad was almost assuredly a reporter and Darcy had no idea what scheme Ransom was up to now.

* * *

Darcy gripped the steering wheel tightly. She was on a winding country road with nary a soul on it, woods thick and road slick from the rain the previous night. Her body was buzzing with anxiety fueled anger, the events of the last 24 hours completely devastating her equilibrium.

It had started the moment she’d stepped in Whispering Fir and hadn’t abated, even through the long drive home. She worked on distracting herself. Making lunch plans with Jane for the next day. Actually folding her laundry for once. Eyes skimming over a novel she’d been trying to get into. Going to bed hadn’t been a relief either, as her dreams were filled with the last night she’d seen Ransom Drysdale, almost a decade ago.

_Cynthia Bloombrooke’s eighteenth party had been in full swing when he’d found her. Ransom had a knack for finding Darcy in any crowded room, much to her chagrin. After years of dealing with him at various functions all throughout her life, she was tired of his taunts. Darcy couldn’t remember what she’d argued with him about when he decided to bother her, but it didn’t matter. The scene that her dream replayed was always the same._

_They were toe to toe as they fought in the middle of the room. No one seemed inclined to intervene, laughs and jeers betraying how entertained onlookers were by their drama. She might have been younger than Ransom by a few years, but he had been in her life so long that Darcy knew how to slide caustic words between his ribs._

_He’d known how to as well._

_“You’re lucky you’re grandfather is so obliging, Ransom. You wouldn’t even be here if he hadn’t bailed Linda out of that business venture.”_

_Ransom’s eyes had been wild and intense, staring down at her, and for a long moment Darcy had wondered if she’d gone too far. But then he’d said-_

_“Like you should be here, Fetch? Cleaning up the messes after sabotaging all your friends' lives?”_

_Slap._

_“I’m the one picking up the pieces, asshole, after you!”_

Years later and Darcy still didn’t regret that slap. She was, however, exhausted to relive it over and over again through her dreams. Until it shifted without warning.

_Ransom had loomed over her, cheek red and eyes flashing, as he brought his hands up to brush her cheeks. He leaned down, licking his lips, breath hot in her face-_

Consciousness had intervened then, jolting Darcy awake. She tossed in bed for many hours, both needing and dreading sleep. The thought of Ransom pulling her so close was so alien, in what world was he gentle like that? She was a dog to him, the very person who had dubbed her that awful nickname ‘Fetch’ in school.

Darcy had finally dragged herself out of bed after her third alarm going off, unable to muster any enthusiasm for work. She was groggily brushing her teeth - her mouth felt like cotton - when her phone had begun to ping text alerts. One, two, three.

Margot - _Omigod, sis, u did way more than i thought u would!_

Dad - _You were supposed to help your sister, not destroy your career. I’m ashamed of you._

Work - _Please remain home from work today. Ms. Grimwood will be contacting you shortly._

Darcy’s mood went from baffled to straight panic mode in the span of ten seconds. Ms. Grimwood was notorious for firing people when they found the end of their usefulness and Darcy had no idea what would prompt such a meeting. Dialing her boss’ number, she had put the phone to her ear. No answer. Panic had brought her to Margot’s number, who didn’t answer either. Dealing with dad without the information prior would be a mistake, which meant Darcy was at the mercy of social media. Fortunately, it had disclosed the mystery instantly. 

_SHADOW OF AVENGERS TOWER author Ransom Drysdale spills all in an exclusive interview talking about superheroes, secrets, and a salacious affair that brought him the delicious deets._

It was a small favor her name wasn’t on the cover, but the article damned her full name and the extent of their childhood interactions that even Darcy couldn’t recall, outlining how entwined their social circle used to be. It would be a miracle if she remained employed after the sheer allusions each article cast - carefully worded to avoid direct libel. Go figure.

Darcy turned off the main road onto a private drive before glaring at her bag as if it was at fault, while it was the papers inside that held the damning words. The one boon of the entire ordeal is that it was blown so out of proportion that there was no way her sister’s underage drinking would even cause a blip of concern. After all, rich kids did that shit all the time. Darcy was practically labeled a _spy_. No wonder they didn’t want her coming into work today.

The driveway opened to an ostentatious house - all glass walls, modern design - and she could see Ransom inside staring out at her with a mug in his hand, obviously expecting her. It was truly unfair how attractive he was, being tall and broad and entirely too adept at hiding the cold stone of a heart behind his handsome facade. Darcy quickly parked, grabbing her bag before taking a breath to gather her thoughts. He watched her from his vantage point, hiding a smile behind a sip, which just served to annoy Darcy more. Getting out, she slammed the car door shut, adjusted the strap on her satchel, and stomped up the muddy path to the front door.

Glaring at him through the window, Darcy held back from bringing her fist directly against the transparent front door. Instead, she slowly raised a single finger to hit the doorbell gently while pursing her lips. He tilted his head back to squint at her, as if considering if she was worth the time. Darcy motioned with her hand to the door, a sure signal of _well?_ before hitting the doorbell once again. His shoulders shook with an obvious chuckle as he walked the path from his living room around to the door.

“What do I-” he began as soon as he opened the door, which Darcy shoved her way through bodily against him. “Hey!” he grumbled as she upset his drink onto his cream knit sweater. “Do you know how expensive this wool is?”

"Like you care. It's as ragged as your personality," she sniped, bee-lining for the dining room table. Removing her coat, she pulled her satchel open and slapped a stack of tabloids on the table. “I had no intention of dragging my ass to the bumfuck forest, but-”

“But here you are,” Ransom said, following her to the table. Setting his cup down, he pulled the sweater off his shoulders, revealing a dark button up shirt with a wet mark underneath. Darcy folded her arms, annoyed at how her eyes darted to the tease of skin at his abdomen. He tossed the sweater in her face. “Here. You can take it to be cleaned, Fetch.”

Darcy’s feelings shifted from the righteous anger she’d driven here with a sharper, more personal disdain as she pulled the sweater off her head, throwing it towards the living room. “Stop calling me that. I’m not that person anymore.”

His eyes glanced down at the tabloids and he snorted, his voice dropping into a sarcastic croon. “Oh, definitely not, which is totally why you’re _not_ here.” Ransom leaned closer to her with a smirk and Darcy could feel her hands shaking with how angry she was.

“Cut the shit, _Huey_. This isn’t one of your rich boy schemes meddling with inconsequential shit,” Darcy hissed, standing up on her tiptoes to prod him in the chest. “This is my _life_!”

Touching him was a bad idea, since he stepped closer to tower over her, making her stand straighter. She wasn’t about to cower to him. “It won't affect you."

“Like hell it won't!”

“Just do what you always did - ignore it. They don't have anything that isn't circumstantial-"

Confusion spread over Darcy’s face as she cut in. “Ransom, for fuck’s sake, you think I don’t want to? But it’s my job and your stupid publicity stunts are going to get me fired!” 

Ransom snorted, crowding her further back into the table, caging her between himself and the table. “Oh, boo hoo, poor little Lewis, gonna have to ask daddy to pull strings to get her a new job-”

_Slap._

Darcy’s hand shot out across Ransom’s face before she even realized what she was doing. Adrenaline was pumping and her hand stung. She turned her focus back to Ransom as he looked at the ground, rubbing his jaw.

"Well, isn't this familiar," he muttered at his feet. “Feels just like I remember.”

She huffed a breath between her teeth, hating that she could never take the high road when it came to Ransom. “You’re the only douche canoe I know who goes out of his way to earn them. You are burning down my life with reporters for fun.”

"’For fun’?” Ransom spat out the words. “The reporters don't have anything. _Anything_ , all right?"

"What?" Darcy felt stupid, not understanding his emphasis, feeding the anger. "Why then? Why name me? Revenge for embarrassing you years ago?”

Breathing hard, he continued to stare down, eyes intense with conflict that Darcy couldn't read.

“Shit.”

The word was muttered under his breath. Suddenly, he straightened and snatched the front of her blouse. Yanking her forward, he pressed his lips against her own.

Darcy’s thoughts scattered and the world tilted. Her butt landed on a flat surface, Random’s body pressing into her, pulling her legs around his hips, damning evidence of his desire hard against her inner thigh. She gripped at his shirt, completely lost as he clutched her close. A sliver of sanity tried to cut through her mind to push him away, to slap him again, to knee him in the groin, to show the asshole that she wasn't about to let him off the hook.

But Darcy didn’t.

The years of banter, scorn for each other, seemed to have built up to this point. The battlefield of their fight had changed, but it was no less exhilarating. So she brought her hands up to rake her fingers through his hair, nails scratching his scalp firmly. Ransom responded with nibbling at her lip, taking advantage of her surprise by tangling his tongue with hers. He tasted like the coffee he'd been drinking, splashed with hazelnut.

Darcy refused to simply submit to his onslaught, abandoning his hair to start tugging at buttons, a pulse of closer beating through her. His hands slid down her neck and chest to stroke down her spine and thigh, hitching her leg up over his hip. She pulled back just enough to bite the peek of skin at his clavicle, ripping his buttons off as she wrenched his shirt open.

"Shit, Darcy. Goin' to have to buy me a whole new outfit," he mumbled into her neck, hands resting at her hips as he ground into the apex of her thighs. 

"Shut up," Darcy said, pulling the shirt off his shoulders and mapping his skin with her fingertips. Glancing up, she was surprised he remained silent despite the heavy breathing, his pupils blown wide. Her hands traveled down to his pants, cupping his rather obvious arousal through his jogging pants.

Ransom hissed, apparently pushed past a breaking point, because he hoisted her up into his arms, a surprised chuckle escaping her. "You're a fucking menace, Darcy."

"Says goddamn _Ransom Drysdale_ ," Darcy said as he carried her across the room to a couch. Ransom dropped her on it, lips landing on her neck as he worked at peeling her cardigan and blouse off of her. Once accomplished, a trail of fire commenced as his lips dragged down her skin.

"You taste even better than I imagined," he muttered, hands running along her breasts, her sides, her lower back. The words repeated like a broken record through Darcy's head until Ransom brought his lips to a nipple and her back arched in approval, mind going blank. He seemed entirely intent on remaining there until she grabbed his head, pulling him back up to kiss him harshly. She didn’t want his tenderness, she wanted the sharp cut of his words to keep her anger aflame.

Darcy pushed him back, kiss still rough and punishing, slowly standing so she could kick off her boots at the same time. He fiddled with the button of her jeans, tugging the material down with her underwear and the kiss broke for her to fully straighten and step out of them. Standing there completely naked, Ransom on his knees at her feet, sent the most exhilarating charge through Darcy. She leaned over.

“Explain yourself,” she growled in his face.

“Goddammit, Darcy, you’re fucking naked in front of me, can’t it wait?” Ransom replied, reaching out to touch her hip and she slapped his hand away.

“You named _me_ , asshole. Why?” Darcy stepped around him, gripping his hair taut. She was heady with power, Ransom acquiescing to her demand to stay on his knees with a flush on his cheeks.

“I wrote a book.”

She stepped around him, running her nails down his scalp to his neck and he shivered. “I wrote a book and we know everyone in the biz- sure, but,” Ransom cut off with a hiss as she dragged her nails across his shoulders. “But while they can print copies, they didn’t really expect it to sell. While there might be interest, it’s rife in bullshit.”

“Well, write what you know,” Darcy said sweetly. Ransom sent her an intense look, one that said she’d perhaps regret that statement.

“It was a complete coincidence when I saw you at the country club, but once I laid eyes on you, I couldn’t let you be. The next thing I know, you’re walking away with that goddamn sexy strut and I’m in an interview with a reporter for the next hour. So I weave this tale of your position in the Tower, how we always snuck information to each other, and goddamn reporter ran with it. Boom. Instant validation, despite absolute _shit all_ for them to prove it with.”

Stepping in front of him, Darcy looked down at him with narrowed eyes. Ransom’s hair was completely mussed, his eyes dark but serious as he continued. “I get my publicity for the book and a payday from idiots. And, apparently, you at my fucking doorstep.”

“Well, then I guess I’ll just leav-”

Ransom burst into motion, shoving her to land on the couch with the words, “like hell you will,” before dipping his head down into the cradle of her thighs. Darcy felt her heartbeat kick up, his hands mapping out the skin of her waist and hips so firmly, a moan escaping her as he nestled his nose against her pelvic bone.

“You’re not going _anywhere_ ,” he muttered against her skin before his tongue began to explore properly. Her hips canted and Ransom’s hands navigated her legs onto his shoulders. Darcy felt her hands grip into his hair once again, tossing her head around.

Ransom’s fingers brushed against her legs before she felt him insert one into her, causing her body to explode in goose-flesh. Tongue trailing back up, he swirled it around her clit and added another finger, eyes staring up at her with a smug delight. 

Darcy was writhing, feeling dissatisfied with how slow his tongue was. “Fuck, more, Ransom, _more_.” A moment later, Ransom suckled her clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue over her at a faster pace. “Oh, god, yes.”

She climbed, higher and higher, her entire body focused on the man between her legs. When suddenly, Ransom stopped. An angry whine escaped her as he pulled away. He kicked off his pants in quick order and yanked her to the ground. Rolling onto his back, Darcy found herself straddling Ransom’s thighs, his form burning in comparison to the chill of the room. A fever had taken over her own body, the edge of delicious oblivion snatched just out of reach.

She gripped his cock, tugging a bit more harshly than she might usually, and Ransom hissed in approval. Darcy thought of continuing that type of reciprocal teasing for only a moment before tossing the thought out. She wanted her goddamn satisfaction. Aligning herself on his dick, she slowly lowered herself down, biting her lip in concentration.

“As goddamn glorious as I thought it’d be,” Ransom whispered with hooded eyes. Darcy reached down and pinched his nipple, grinning as his hips jutted up, seating him deeper inside her.

“You’ve wanted me?” Darcy asked, setting a slow pace despite the increasing tempo of her need.

“Yeah,” he muttered, obviously not pleased with the confession.

“Since when?” she ground down on him, hands trailing up his shoulders to get better balance.

“Too fucking long.”

Darcy chuckled low in her throat, mind dizzy with the ridiculous admission. Leaning back, she found an angle that hit all the most delicious places. Ransom gripped her hips, giving her bounces a bit of weight. Her hands found her breasts, fingers nimbly pinching her nipples, accompanying her canting hips with shivers. Ransom groaned and she found their tempo building together, her head lolling back as he pushed up into her. 

She trailed her hands down her stomach when he rolled Darcy onto her back, pinning her down. His hand was suddenly in between them, thumb brushing up against her clit, and he thrust somehow deeper into her. 

“Oh my god, oh,” Darcy started to babble, the sensations washing over her as Ransom worked into her with fervor, his attention to her clit causes shivers to explode over her body.

“That’s it, yes,” he grit out in between his teeth. Darcy felt the stiffening of his motions and her whole body lit up as she found her release. Biting into his shoulder, nails digging into his back, she muffled her scream into his skin, pleasure crashing over her in waves. A moment later and his motions became erratic, his inaudible whispers desperate before finding his own climax.

Panting, he collapsed onto his forearms, head resting on her breasts. Darcy blinked at the ceiling, body humming with afterglow. The only sound was the crackling of the fireplace.

After a moment, Ransom rolled off of her, sitting up with his back to her. Darcy eyed him warily. Her anger was completely spent, even if she wasn’t sure if she was going to still have a job or not. At least she got a decent fuck out of the ordeal. Reaching over, she grabbed the first piece of clothing she could find, pulling it over her head without a thought.

It was his damn sweater. The coffee spill on it was cold. Darcy started to gather her things, tongue oddly twisted, ignoring Ransom. What was there to say? She’d gotten her answers. There wasn’t much to do about it if they decided to let her go. Darcy would be okay, she’d crash at Jane’s until-

“Shit,” she muttered, scrambling to her feet to her bag. Digging into it, she ignored Ransom as he pulled on his pants. She found her phone, wincing at the screen. Dialing and putting the phone to her ear, she began to duck around looking for her clothes.

“Where the hell are you?” Jane asked over the line. “I went to snag you for lunch, but Bob said you hadn’t been in. What the hell happened? You never miss work.”

“I’m sorry, Jane, I can’t make it to lunch. I’m in Massachusetts.”

“Well, I know that now! I thought you’d been kidnapped or something by AIM or, or, I don’t know. Something. So I went upstairs to hunt down Bruce, thinking he could find out without alarming everyone, but _of course_ Tony was there-” Darcy groaned. Ransom’s gaze followed her around the room, “-so he tracked your phone to some damn forest and were about to ship out-”

“Oh fuck,” Darcy breathed, feeling sick to her stomach, looking out through the large windows that made up a majority of Ransom’s exterior walls. Nothing would be more damning than finding her fucking the dude who was causing such an upset.

“-but I made them run the address before they went in guns-a-blazing, since we know how well that goes for them usually. You’re lucky I remembered that story about Ransom and the turtle when you were kids, shutting them down.”

“Bless you, Janey,” she said. Where the hell was her underwear?

“What happened?” Jane questioned.

“Fucking Ransom Drysdale,” Darcy said. It wasn’t until after she said it that she realized her words could be taken literally. _Shit_. “He’s got some expose book he’s trying to release and named _moi_ as his informant. I’m not lasting another day in the Tower, Jane, all because some jerk from my past decided I’d be his ticket in.” 

Jane scoffed over the phone as Darcy made her way to the couch to glare down at Ransom. A smug expression had grown over his face once again. Darcy mouthed _underwear?_ at him.

“What was that?” he cupped his ear, asking loudly. “Where is your unde-”

“Call you back!” Darcy couldn’t hang up fast enough. Flicking his ear, she grumbled. “That was rude.”

“You’re the one who hung up on her,” he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her closer. Darcy scowled. Ransom’s confidence that his attentions would be welcome was irritating. The fact that she didn’t want to resist when he plucked at the sweater was disconcerting. He nuzzled into her neck.

“I think this sweater is too big,” he murmured, hands splaying open against her bare ass. Darcy rolled her eyes, not surprised by the inanity of his statement, but brought her fingers to comb through his hair. She was trying to ignore the cynical voice in her head, wondering why this afterglow was so easy with Ransom. It should be awkward and stilted and end with him throwing her out of his house.

But it wasn’t.

He slid back, pulling Darcy with him, effectively cuddling her against the couch. “Stop thinking so hard, Darcy,” Ransom murmured, closing his eyes as he relaxed against her. “It’ll be fine.”

“Easy for you to say,” she said.

“Look, they’re the one publishing unsubstantiated lies, and will be wild enough to cover up Margot’s little problem-”

Darcy pushed herself up, shocked. “What did you say?”

Ransom snorted. “What, you think I didn’t hear about that? My idiot cousin boasting about putting Huntington in the hospital?”

“So it’s out.” 

He grinned, shaking his head. “Just need to know where to grease the wheels, Darce. You think you’re the only one who can clean up messes?”

“But why?” she asked. “Why do me a favor?”

“Like I said, I saw an opportunity to see you again and took it.”

Darcy searched Ransom’s expression, frown growing in concern. “Who goes to those lengths-”

He interrupted her with a chuckle. “Like you haven’t bribed a problem away before.” Darcy bristled, but continued.

“-just for the possibility of seeing a woman, who by all reports, wants nothing to do with you?”

“Definitely despises me,” Ransom whispered in her ear, hand trailing against her hip lazily. “I don’t know, Darcy. You’ve always fought with me, even when you didn’t need to. It was… refreshing compared to the sycophants.”

“And when I’m fired?” 

“You won’t be.”

“How are you so sure?”

“You have something in spades that none of your coworkers do,” Ransom said.

“What’s that?”

“Their trust.”

Darcy snorted. “As if you would know. I can count the times I’ve met anyone ‘important’ on one hand.”

“Didn’t I say I did research for grandfather a couple months ago?” Ransom replied, tweaking her nose. “The old codger could always see my blind spot when it came to you. Who knows what he was aiming for, but I found a positive _bevy_ of ridiculous gossip on the lower levels and that your clearance was far higher than normal. Seemed like an easy way for some harmless drama.”

“Harmless? God damn your schemes, Ransom,” Darcy spit out. He laughed.

“Oh, you don’t even know how far down it goes, Darce.”

“Sociopath.”

Ransom tilted his head, thoughtful for a moment, before shrugging. “Probably. But it’s all peachy keen in the forest green.”

* * *

Darcy hated that Ransom had been right. By the time she’d made the 3 hour drive home, she’d gotten a call from Jane relaying the message to go to the Tower so they could ‘square this nonsense away.’ Once she’d shown up, an escort had taken her upstairs, far past her usual floor. Arriving in the common area for the heroes, Ms. Grimwood was there, looking sour, with Tony Stark fiddling with some sort of small motor on the coffee table. Pepper Potts had sat regally in an armchair next to him, trying to go over some sort of report.

“Ah, good, you’re here,” Ms. Potts said as she switched tabs. “Please, have a seat.”

“Skip the pleasantries, Pep. What’s all this hullabaloo?” Tony glanced up at Darcy as she approached, eyes sharpening in an instant. Darcy shifted, really wishing she’d stopped at home first, because despite her best efforts, she had no idea what had happened to her underwear. 

“Old friend decided to fuck with me,” Darcy said as plainly as possible, despite the crudeness of the word, casting a glance at the older woman. “I assume the AI detected the breach and called in Ms. Grimwood to deal with me as per protocol.”

“Fuck with you, eh?” Tony waggled his eyebrows. Darcy ignored his innuendo and pulled out the tabloids from her bag, dumping them for the second time on a table. Pepper grabbed one as he shuffled through them. “Oh. This is… downright lame. This really pinged the AI?”

Ms. Grimwood looked uncomfortable. “The system is still fairly new-”

“Yeah, but you’d have to fire me five times over if this was anything worth being concerned about. Seriously, this is an article from the National Inquirer. No one takes that seriously.”

Pepper interjected, “I’m fairly certain you have nothing to worry about, Ms. Grimwood. We will clear out the alert and you can go back to your regular duties.”

Ms. Grimwood left with a polite nod. Pepper waited for her to leave before she turned a critical glance towards Darcy.

“If these articles have no weight, why were you at his house earlier today?” she asked all too astutely.

Darcy sighed, having anticipated the question, and reached down into her bag once again. She pulled out a final draft of Ransom’s book manuscript and dropped it on top of the tabloids. Tony whistled.

“Damn that’s cold. Fucking a man for his manuscript,” he said as Pepper picked it up, sending him a frown. “Well done.”

Darcy rolled her eyes as Pepper perused it. “He gave it to me. He just took the most ridiculous of gossip from the lower levels and… embellished.”

Pepper laughed softly. “Tony, how are your sleepless nights, waiting wistfully for your ‘lost Captain’ to return?” 

Tony gave Pepper a look of disgust and confusion. “What.”

“Heavy on the embellish,” Darcy grumbled. “It’s downright ridiculous.”

“I’ve changed my mind. Shut him down,” Tony said while Pepper started downright hooting in laughter. 

“He- he left- because _Bruce_ scared him away. _Bruce_.”

Tony blinked for a moment before a smile split over his face. “Not Hulk?” Pepper shook her head through her mirth.

“As stupid as it all is, it’s actually mildly helpful. He’s creating noise around the Avengers which could prove useful if something... incendiary happened,” Darcy begrudgingly admitted. “Drown it out. Just with the unfortunate side effect of making you guys look really dumb.”

“So what do we do?” Tony asked.

“Nothing. You can’t do anything. Sure, he’s making stuff up, but if you look-” Darcy reached over to flip to the front of the manuscript, there was a small _‘this is a work of fiction’_ , “-carefully, it’s actually just really cheesy fiction. Of characters who just happen to use your name. Addressing them would give them credence.”

“I’m chill with nothing,” Tony sat back. Darcy managed a tight smile. The interview had to be nearly over, right? She felt dead on her feet.

“We’ll keep an eye out on it, but we appreciate your explanation, Darcy,” Pepper said. “We’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

Darcy agreed with a farewell. Thank god. She took the elevator downstairs, quickly hailing a cab and sighing in relief when she could lean back and just not think for the first time in hours.

Lightly dozing from the lull of traffic, she was startled by her cell phone ringing. Accepting the call blindly, she brought it to her ear. “If this isn’t important, I’m hanging up.”

“Oh, I’m important, Fetch.”

It was unfair how her pulse quickened simply hearing Ransom’s voice. She smiled.

Then hung up on him.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! drop me a line on my [personal tumblr](https://snailsarecute.tumblr.com/) or [writing tumblr](https://crimtastic.tumblr.com) if so inclined. 😊


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